Tribute
by The Committee
Summary: AU: Rumors told of a monster living beneath the palace of Crete, devouring men and women in a monthly sacrifice. One Athenian is about to discover the truth. The Labyrinth Myth retold. NarKag.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the order in which the following words appear.**

………

_Oh muses nine, of birth divine, _

_Sing to me a tale…._

………

_Prologue_

………

Lightning streaked across the night sky, a blinding harbinger of the thunderous crashes that immediately followed. Zeus was in rare form tonight, his anger playing out across the dark canopy of clouds while rain slashed down in heavy torrents upon the city below.

Some said Knossos was cursed, that the Fates had ruled against the Minoan capital. Others countered that it was blessed, that no other nation had such a massive, powerful army or the good fortune to be ruled by a demi-god. In a way, both opinions were correct…

Within the sprawling palace, in a dim, lamp-lit room paced the King of Crete, the half-demon who was rumored to be a bastard offspring of Zeus himself. The storm raging outside had little to do with his current dark mood, though it complimented it very nicely. His bare feet stomped across the lavish floor as though attempting to crack the intricate mosaic tesserae upon which they trod.

"My liege, please," a steward pleaded from a corner of the room, "calm yourself. The midwife knows her business well. Doubtless this birth will be like any other…"

In a flash, the half-demon was in the man's face, one clawed hand around the steward's throat as he shoved him up against the wall and lifted him a few inches off the ground.

"Calm down?" he repeated, his amber eyes tinged with red. "We both know that child may not be mine!"

The steward's only response was a choking gasp for air, his eyes wide and desperate.

The next instant, the king released his grip, and the man slumped down to the floor, starved lungs gratefully heaving. He lifted his head and blearily watched his leader return to restless pacing, even as his ears picked up a far-off sound, something between a grunt and a scream. No doubt the King of Crete, with his enhanced hearing, could perfectly discern those cries of exertion. No doubt the queen's labor-pains were the sole source of his ire.

_Some said Knossos was cursed_.

"Surely the curse was fulfilled months ago," the steward feebly attempted. "The gods have smiled on you since! None can stand in the way of your armies, and since that… that time of punishment, your queen has returned to her former mind. Were this child an offspring of that curse, surely she would have remained in her frenzied state throughout her pregnancy. Poseidon has had his revenge and is appeased!"

His leader paused in his pacing, head tilted slightly as he studied the steward upon the floor, contemplating his logic. Some of his anxiety seemed to disappear, but a tortured sigh escaped his lips nonetheless. "If only it were that simple," he ground out.

"Perhaps it _is_ that simple. A mistake was made, and a punishment given. Justice has been meted out. You have made your offerings to Poseidon without fail. What purpose would he have in punishing you further?"

A silence fell between them, both inwardly musing on the possibility of the steward's words being correct. When it came to the Olympians, it was often difficult to tell if forgiveness was given or not. No one held grudges quite like the gods…

"His Majesty has much reason to worry."

Both men jumped and whirled, their startled gazes coming to rest on a hunched old figure that stood in the chamber doorway. Her bulging eyes stared back at them almost sightlessly, and a malevolent smirk twisted across her weathered face. She had appeared seemingly from nowhere, her presence overpowering.

"Much reason indeed," she added, stepping forward unbidden.

The steward was the first to recover himself, scrambling to his feet and dropping into a low bow. The king's attention jerked toward him briefly before he followed suit.

"Sibyl of Delphi," the Minoan monarch managed thickly, "you honor us with your presence."

A bitter chuckle escaped the newcomer's lips. "You seek to sway old Urasue with mere words of kindness?" she inquired archly. "I am not so easily bought. The Fates have spoken, Inuyasha, King of Crete, and I am to deliver their message. All the flattery in the world could not undo the words I shall pronounce upon your head this night!"

A crash of thunder reverberated through the house. The king could not bring himself to speak, merely gaping at the ancient crone, awaiting her dark tidings.

One corner of Urasue's sunken mouth curled up into a wry smile. "Your queen, grey-eyed Kikyo, defied the gods with her presumption, and a terrible curse was brought down upon her head in retribution. This much you already know, King of Crete. Tonight that curse comes to fruition."

Her two listeners waited breathlessly for the completion of her prophecy, their eyes widening as they watched her expression contort to one of pure malice.

Urasue's words were as hot acid on their ears. "Tonight, in that birthing chamber, the once-pure maiden shall bear a monster such as this world has never before seen! Each time the moon waxes to its fullest, the beast shall gorge itself on human flesh, young men and women offered in sacrifice to keep it at bay, to satisfy its bloodlust! Countless innocents shall tremble in fear and perish, and you shall be powerless to intercede! Such have the Fates spoken!"

Silence fell across the room, deafening in its emptiness, only to be shattered by the unmistakable wail of an infant child.

"Kikyo." The single word wrenched itself from Inuyasha's throat in a strangled whisper. He whirled toward the source of the disturbance, even started moving in that direction, before recalling the ill omen of his guest. When he swiveled back to give the old woman a piece of his mind, however, his golden eyes met nothing but an empty doorway.

Urasue had vanished.

He cast a frantic glance toward the steward, who could only shrug in oblivious astonishment. "Kikyo," Inuyasha pronounced again, firmly, then bounded away down the hall. His advisor watched him leave, an expression of mingled fear and wonder on his face.

A maid was just stepping out of the birthing chamber as the king scrambled toward the doorway. Whatever words she spoke were lost in his frenzy of emotion, and he callously brushed by her into the room beyond where lay his wife and her newborn child.

Kikyo looked up at his unceremonious entrance, her face wan but her eyes shimmering.

"Are you all right?" he demanded, arresting his steps upon catching sight of the small bundle in her arms. The midwife bustled about in the corner of the room, cleaning up the vestiges of childbirth as though this evening's work had been no different from any other.

"Just tired," Kikyo managed, her gaze straying down to the tightly wrapped infant resting against her bosom. "He's beautiful," she whispered in awe. "Come look at him, Inuyasha. Our child is beautiful."

He tried to ignore the iron grip clamped around his heart as he stepped forward. It was very possible that the child could be his, after all. He and Kikyo hadn't exactly been celibate around the time when the child would have been conceived. At this moment, he desperately wanted to believe that the curse had been fulfilled all those months ago, that this child was not the monster offspring foretold. He wanted to believe that the Fates were wrong, and that the words of the Delphian Oracle were nothing more than the rantings of a senile old woman.

Leaning forward gingerly, he caught his first glimpse of the infant boy, a thick head of coal-black hair and the smooth baby-skin of a perfect face. Eyes scrunched closed, the newborn opened his mouth and let out a short wail, which Kikyo quickly silenced by placing her pinky on his lower lip.

"I think he's hungry," she smiled, watching her son suck ravenously on her finger.

Inuyasha wanted nothing more than to believe that everything was as perfect as it seemed. He swallowed hard, his eyes raising to meet his lover's gaze even as the grip on his heart tightened. He wanted to believe, but one bald fact stood in his way:

_The Fates were never wrong._

………

_Tribute_

Chapter 1

_Twenty Years Later_

_Athens_

………

"…and then, just as the gorgon was bearing down on me, I slashed my sword and cut off her head! It went tumbling to the ground, the snake-tresses writhing in agony and a voiceless shriek coming from her hideous mouth!"

Several horrified gasps sounded from the group of small children gathered at the speaker's feet, and their expressions indicated that they were enthralled with the story.

"Really? Is that really how it happened?"

"That's not all," the dark-haired girl answered with a nod. "I thought for certain that she was dead, but just when I reached forward to shove her head into my knapsack, she… _jumped_!" The storyteller lunged toward her audience, who shrieked in petrified delight.

An undisguised scoff cut through the afternoon air, and all eyes immediately shot toward the corner from whence the blasphemous sound had originated. A man leaned against the garden wall, his hands folded over his chest and an expression of pure disbelief etched into his features.

"Come on," he said derisively. "It was Perseus who killed the gorgons! You can't take credit for his deeds!"

The storyteller straightened primly and brushed off the skirt of her long peplos. "I was only giving a dramatic re-enactment," she said with deadly calm. "Of course Perseus killed the gorgons. Everyone knows that."

Her critic snorted. "You should save drama for the men, like the gods intended. And while we're at it, you should save your aspirations of heroism for the men as well. Women are meant to adorn the bedroom, not the battlefield."

The girl's back stiffened perceptibly as she drew herself up to her full, albeit diminutive, height and glared down her nose at him. "Try telling that to any self-respecting Amazon," she retorted, then immediately returned her attention to the small cluster of children. "I think that's all the storytelling for today," she said apologetically. "I'm sure your mothers are all wondering where you are."

The group obediently dispersed, with only one tiny girl lingering behind, clutching tentatively to the draped woolen fabric of the storyteller's skirt. "Are you going to finish the story tomorrow, Kagome?" she asked, her words hardly discernable in the softness of her voice.

The object of her query knelt down, looking her in the eyes and smiling. "If you want me to, I will," she answered almost as quietly, her eyes briefly flicking toward the figure still leaning against the garden wall.

The little girl beamed and nodded, then scampered away, leaving the two youths alone.

"What are you hanging around for, Kotatsu?" Kagome inquired with hostility. Her aversion for the man, usually so well hidden, was perfectly visible at the moment.

"You think you're hot stuff, don't you?" he responded, a sneer in his voice. "Just because the king adopted you and lets you live here at the palace, you think you're above the rules of this society."

"There's no rule saying a woman can't tell a group of children a simple story."

Kotatsu grunted, unable to come up with a suitable retort. "You have other tasks to be attending to, I'm sure," he finally accused. "Your stepmother would no doubt appreciate your help with her weaving."

"Actually, she prefers that I steer clear of her looms. And what about you? Don't you have a fresco to be working on?"

"What's the point?" he shot back with a sneer. "Why would I paint when I've been chosen for death?" Her confused reaction to his words spurred him on. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Precious? Apple of the king's eye! I'm sure your name wasn't even in the drawing, was it?"

Kagome was scrutinizing him, trying to detect any sort of deception. She could plainly see that he wanted her to ask for more details, but at the moment, she certainly wasn't going to indulge him. With an arrogant toss of her head, she turned and walked away. Kotatsu called after her, his voice jeering.

"That's right, Princess! Walk away, safe and sound, while we _true_ Athenians sacrifice our lives for you! Must be nice to be so blessed by the gods!"

She quickened her pace, tuning out his voice even as it faded away with distance. Anger bubbled in her chest at Kotatsu's reference to "true Athenians." This was her home, even if she wasn't born here, even if she'd only lived here for the last few years, even if she was only a poor stranger of questionable heritage… Tears were stinging at the back of her eyes, but she ruthlessly suppressed them, her sandaled feet breaking into a run.

Her steps led her through the Acropolis, straight to the palace and her adopted father's presence. He stood with a group of advisors and a couple of foreign dignitaries, all their faces grave as they discussed serious matters. At her entrance, though, the king readily took leave of his entourage.

"Kagome, my dear child, what brings you here?"

"What has happened, Father?" she inquired in a hushed voice. "Are we at war?"

"War?" the man repeated in surprise, a bemused smile spreading across his face. "No, of course not! What could ever make you think of something like that?"

He was trying to pawn her off, she could tell. "Then what is this about a drawing and being chosen for death?" she persisted.

The smile on his face faltered. "You heard about that, did you?" Slinging one arm around her shoulder in a comforting gesture, he walked with her, guiding their steps toward the temple of Athena. "It is merely a ritual, nothing more. Do not worry yourself over it."

"A ritual that involves killing Athenians?" Kagome demanded, not one to be put off her goal.

Her adoptive father winced. "Perhaps 'ritual' is the wrong word. To put it simply, Kagome, Athens pays tribute to Crete. Years ago, the Minoan army invaded and threatened to destroy our beautiful city. They spared us, in return for the lives of fourteen youths—seven men and seven women—and a promise that the same tribute would be paid whenever they demanded it. The lives of a few to save the multitude, you see. Of course we accepted their offer. There really was not other option. And this is only the third time we've had to pay in twenty years, so we should consider ourselves lucky."

"But what do they do with the tribute?" she pressed in confusion. "Why would Crete wish to slaughter the youth of Athens?" A sudden protectiveness spiked within her—these were her people, after all. She owed much to the goodness of the beautiful city.

His face held a very somber expression now, his eyes shadowed and his mouth frowning. "No one knows for certain. I've heard it said our youths are offered to appease a hideous monster that lives in the underbelly of Knossos," he admitted. "Truth be told, we are not the only city-state to pay such tribute. Crete has a long, powerful reach, and many colonies must send the chosen of their rising generation into that abyss. In twenty years, not one has ever come back alive."

"If Crete is so powerful, why do they not kill the monster and leave off with the human sacrifice?" Kagome demanded, suddenly irate. "Or why do they not call upon a band of heroes to do it for them, like Hiten and the Argonauts?"

"Shh!" He quickly cupped a hand over her mouth, a horrified expression his face. "Don't say that name! If your step-mother hears it, she'll fly into a rage!" The king's eyes darted around momentarily, checking to make sure that no one was within range of their voices. Satisfied, he hesitantly released his silencing hold on her.

"You'd think after chopping his children to bits and feeding them to him, Yura would feel vindicated enough not to hold a grudge anymore," Kagome commented dryly. She couldn't help but smile as her adoptive father flinched. "Anyway, we're off the subject. Why doesn't the king of Crete destroy that monster rather than feeding it?"

Her father heaved a tired sigh. "Rumor has it he is powerless to intercede. Many tales are told of the beast's origin, and I don't know where to separate fact from fancy, but if the majority of the stories are correct, then the monster which lurks beneath the palace was born of the Minoan queen herself."

Kagome recoiled in confusion. "The queen gave birth to a monster? How did this come about?"

He looked around himself furtively before pulling her into a secluded area and seating them both on a small stone bench. "This is only rumor," he began, and Kagome inwardly smiled at the king's propensity toward gossip, "but some have said that the king and queen of Crete offended Poseidon himself. Stupid thing to do, really. Everyone knows not to upset _him_."

"No kidding," she agreed.

"Well, in return, it's said the sea-god called a curse down upon their heads: the queen was made to lust after a hideous creature, her passion driving her to madness and culminating in a forbidden joining between herself and her object of desire." He paused, observing his daughter's revolted expression. "Aphrodite's influence will do strange things to a person," he commented with a shrug before continuing. "At any rate, the queen seemed to return to normal after that time, but it was discovered that she was with child. Months later, she delivered a monster so hideous and gruesome that the king constructed a massive labyrinth beneath the palace foundation just to hide it from sight."

"Why did he not kill it at birth, while it was still young and weak?"

"Who knows?" he answered sadly. "It is not even our place to ask such a question. All that matters, Kagome, is that for the life of only a few, many thousands are kept alive. Crete is our ally, and trust me when I say that we don't want her for an enemy."

"I see. And you choose the sacrificial youth by drawing their names?" Kagome inquired.

"That is correct. All youths between the ages of six and twenty-six have their name placed in a basket, and the tribute is picked at random. We performed it this morning, and the ship to Crete shall leave three days hence, our treaty once more renewed. It is with heavy heart that I send these young ones to their deaths, but I must think of the greater good…"

"Father," she interrupted, an unsettling feeling in the back of her mind, "was my name in the drawing?"

His eyes had begun to take on a glazed expression, but he immediately snapped out of it. "Your name?" he repeated with a short laugh and a paternal pat on her knee. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course it wasn't."

"Why not?"

"Because your fate does not lie at Crete. Your step-brothers' names weren't included either."

Her mind raced through a host of thoughts all at once, Kotatsu's jeering words playing a chorus to her stream of consciousness. "Send me," she suddenly blurted.

The king jumped in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"Send me instead of the youngest maiden chosen," Kagome clarified, the many half-molten ideas in her head slowly taking shape and solidifying.

A breathy laugh escaped his lips. "Absolutely not!" he promptly responded.

She wasn't one to be denied, however. "I insist. The safety of Athens is as much my responsibility as it is any of the other youths chosen as tribute. Send me, Father. Send me, and I shall slay the monster and free our city from this scourge forever!"

………

**A/N: I'm sure this and future chapters will be one long-running anachronism, so I'll apologize for that right now. I've done some basic research (as you'll see in the next chapter), but I'm not obsessive enough to make certain every little thing fits within the time period being used (circa 900 BC, aka Ancient Greece). **

**Also, I'm using _Minoan_ when referring to the civilization of Crete because the term _Cretan_ sounds like an insult. I mention this because the word _Minoan_ stems from that ever-famous king of Crete, Minos, whose position Inuyasha has filched. So in this story, theoretically I could refer to Crete as the _Inuyashan Civilization_, but I felt that would be a bit much. ;-) _Minoan_ it is.**


	2. Culture Clash

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the order in which the following words appear. **

………

Chapter Two - Culture Clashes

………

The sea swelled beneath the small vessel, and Kagome leaned heavily against the railing, glaring down at the churning ocean below. She wasn't supposed to be on deck, actually, and the Minoan emissaries kept yelling for her to be thrown below with the rest of the tribute, but as this was a Greek ship run by Athenian sailors, she remained up top all the same, breathing in the salty Mediterranean air.

The Minoans were afraid she intended to jump ship and drown herself.

Kagome grunted, grimly amused. Those emissaries had no idea how much work she had gone through to obtain her place in this entourage. Her father had resisted her demands quite firmly, even when her stepmother spoke up in support of her decision. That alone was something of a miracle; he rarely denied Yura anything. Three days of begging, however, had finally worn him down, and with great satisfaction, Kagome took the place of a seven-year-old girl whose parents promptly bolted off to the Pantheon to give prayers of thanks.

At least she'd saved one life. She had every intention of saving them all.

Absently fingering the handle of the sharp knife concealed at her waist, she allowed her mind to drift back over her life thus far. She recalled with fond amusement her kind-hearted mother, and with even more amusement, her crazy old grandfather, who had always insisted that she was the daughter of a god, like Hercules and Helen and so many other epic figures. As a child, she had listened to his tales, enraptured, certain that her life was meant for greater things as well.

Her mother had blushed deeply whenever the subject was broached, finally confessing that there was a far greater possibility of her father being a nobleman of Athens who had stayed with their family years ago. At first the girl's disappointment had been keen, but that soon faded away into a profound desire to know her missing parent. And so, a few years back, she had left behind everything she knew and journeyed to Athens to seek him out. The signet ring she bore, the only relic left behind by that mysterious figure, led her to the Acropolis, and to the king.

He in turn accepted her with open arms, neither of them knowing for certain whether they were actually related or not. Many—particularly the queen, Yura—found it exceedingly odd that a friendless stranger should be accepted so readily into the ruling family, but then, the Athenian ruler was an odd man in many ways. All that really mattered was that he and Kagome got along famously. In fact, he'd been in tears when she boarded this ship, headed for her doom.

She sighed heavily, trying to ignore the lurch of the ship on the waves, along with the accompanying lurch of her stomach.

"Lady Kagome! Lady Kagome!"

She cringed at the voice calling to her from the open hatch, wondering how long she could get away with disregarding it. When he told her of the tribute, her father had failed to mention that its members were paired off into couples. Thus, in taking her place among them, she had also inherited from her predecessor a male counterpart, a kind-hearted, well-meaning young man. He was driving her insane.

"Lady Kagome, I spoke with one of the sailors, and he said that dried seaweed could cure your nausea! I've found some. Would you like to try it?"

Kagome closed her eyes, silently praying to the gods for patience. "No thanks, Hojo," she finally called back. "I think I've got it under contr—" She suddenly heaved, hanging over the edge of the ship and retching toward the dark waves below. So much for control.

"Lady Kagome!"

Her mind dimly registered the sound of scuffling feet, signaling that her partner had decided to come to her aid.

"Hey, you! You're not supposed to be above deck!"

"But Lady Kagome is—"

"_She's_ not supposed to be above deck either! We've made an exception for her, but you're not sick, so back down you go!"

Kagome turned in time to watch two Minoans grab Hojo by the arms and pull him back toward the open hatch. His eyes met hers in a silent plea, but she only offered a weak smile in return, watching with concealed amusement as he was thrust back into the belly of the ship. The Minoans brushed off their hands in satisfaction at a job well done.

_I really ought to be nicer to poor Hojo_, she thought idly. He really did have good intentions, but his ever-smiling countenance and unquenchable optimism somehow grated on her nerves.

The Minoan emissaries turned to glare at her, crossing their arms over their bare chests in an attempt to intimidate her. "Are you finished yet?" one of them inquired scornfully.

"Keep your loin skirt on," she shot back, her tone of voice just as derisive. "It's not like I'm planning to jump overboard." She inwardly wondered whether all Minoan men dressed that way—bare-chested with brightly-colored loin skirts and knee-high socks beneath their decorative sandals—or whether these particular specimens had merely lost a bet.

Not that it mattered, really. She was going to find out the answer soon enough anyway.

………

The ship docked soon after sunset, and the Minoan emissaries immediately herded the tribute off, into a caged wagon for transport to the palace at Knossos. Kagome wearily glanced around at the somber faces of her fellow Athenians as they huddled down in a pile of dirty straw as though they were common farm animals being brought to sacrifice. Many of them projected despair and fear, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her own heart at the impending danger. But she was going to kill the monster; she kept mentally repeating that mantra, willing herself to stay calm, to stay focused.

Her body ached from seasickness and fatigue, and the last thought she had before drifting off to sleep was how predictable Hojo was in offering her his shoulder. Predictable, but nice.

………

"Lady Kagome."

She heard her name whispered, and she blearily cracked open her eyes.

"Lady Kagome, we're here. They're ushering everyone out now. They say we're going to be presented to the King of Crete. Come on, now."

She bolted upright and scrambled out of the wagon behind the others, ignoring Hojo's proffered arm of assistance. Her gaze immediately jerked upward toward the massive, sprawling palace into which they were being led single-file, her eyes taking in its white marble facade and decorative moldings. The air here was much warmer than Athens, even at night, and held a spicy, exotic scent.

A rank of soldiers stood on either side of the tribute, their somber faces and bare torsos bathed in torchlight, and the sharp spearheads of their weapons glittering with menace. Even in the dim flickers of fire, Kagome could make out the bright colors of the sheaths they wore wrapped around their freakishly small waists. The Minoan manner of dress seemed outlandish when compared with the pale simplicity of the Athenians' garb, and she suddenly had a distinct pang of homesickness wash over her. Up until now, her mind hadn't really registered the change of surroundings from her native land, but it hit her now full-force.

They were led down elaborately frescoed hallways, the soldier at the head of the line turning occasionally to bark orders for them to keep up. Many of the Athenian maidens were crying outright and being consoled by their partners. Kagome callously brushed Hojo away when he tried to take her hand in a gesture of comfort. She was too busy cataloguing in her mind the many hallways that branched off into darkness, too busy observing the bold art and exquisitely wrought metal that adorned the corridor, too busy plotting how she could slip away and kill the monster. She had no patience for false comfort.

At last they entered a massive room, brightly lit and garnished with every luxury known to mankind. Gold shined from nearly every surface, alongside the seductive glitter of thousands of precious stones. Two long banquet tables extended adjacent to one another, laden with sumptuous and tempting foods and tall ewers of wine. The atmosphere was that of an impending festival, and the troupe of Athenians couldn't help but stare in awestruck wonder, each feeling suddenly small and extremely out of place.

"Tribute of Athens!" a loud voice boomed from the head of the room, and their attention was immediately drawn to a white-haired figure atop a tiered dais. "We honor your presence and celebrate your sacrifice. Tonight you shall dine as our distinguished guests! Please, be seated. Eat and drink to your heart's content!"

"That's the king of Crete, Inuyasha," Hojo whispered needlessly into Kagome's ear as he led her to one of the tables. The king was decidedly a fine specimen, part-demon as the legends told, with a handsome face and flashing amber eyes. He was dressed in a style similar to his warriors, though his attire was far more elaborate, with an intricate necklace and two solid gold armlets added to the mix. It was not he, however, who caught Kagome's full attention.

Instead, her eyes were drawn to a proud figure just behind him, sitting at the double throne of Crete. The woman had a beautiful face, her expression aloof and her hair elaborately coifed in spirals and ringlets that draped over her shoulders. Her clothing, however, held far more interest for the modest Athenians, and Kagome could hear whispers rising among the tribute as others noticed her presence.

A bell-shaped skirt cinched around the woman's tiny waist, falling in boldly hued ruffles down to the ground. The bodice of the dress was equally bright in color, laced just beneath the bosom and extending up into a high, stiff collar and long, fitted sleeves. Herein lay the spectacle that caught the attention of the tribute, that made the men stare and the maidens turn away with a blush. The dress was designed so as to leave the breasts fully exposed, the woman's nipples a glaring red to match her full lips.

They certainly weren't in Athens anymore.

The woman's position on the dais proclaimed her status, Kagome suddenly realized. She could be none other than Kikyo the queen, wife to Inuyasha of Crete… and mother of the monster who would devour them all. Across the expanse of the room, their eyes met, steely gray against determined blue, and an unspoken challenge seemed to issue between them. Kagome was the first to break the gaze, averting her attention to the haunch of meat Hojo proudly deposited on her plate.

For some strange reason, her desire to kill the monster of Crete had just soared.

………

"This isn't so bad, is it?" Hojo was looking around the living quarters with a satisfied expression. "We could be living here up to seven months, so it's nice that they furnished it so well."

Kagome nodded dully, her eyes darting over the interior of the room to which they had been assigned, primarily noting the single bed. No way in Hades was she sharing…

The process had been explained to them all back at the feast. At each full moon, a pair from the tribute would be sent into the depths of a labyrinth beneath the palace foundation, wherein they would meet their fate. Lots would be drawn to determine the order of the offering, and until the time of their descent into the darkness, the Athenians were to live in a secluded building of the palace complex, treated as heroes and honored above all the other residents. The Minoan ruler seemed almost apologetic as he explained all this to them, and for a moment during the speech, Kagome had felt pity tug at her heartstrings—up until she remembered that Inuyasha should have killed the vicious monster the day it was born.

"The next full moon isn't for another week," Hojo was saying with a tentative gleam in his eyes, his gaze shifting toward the bed. "We could be the first to go, you know…"

"I'm going for a walk," Kagome announced bluntly, turning from the room.

"But we're not supposed to—" His voice was cut off by the slamming of the heavy door behind her. They were told not to roam the halls at will, despite the king's avowal that they would be treated with honor during their stay here. Kagome had no intention of sticking to her quarters and a decidedly misguided Hojo, however. She knew full well that some of the other couples were planning on living out their last days filled with every carnal pleasure Aphrodite graced the world with, but she wasn't going to be one of them. She wasn't going to die, so there was no point in throwing away her time in a desperate attempt to truly live.

In order to accomplish her goal, though, she needed to know the lay of the palace grounds, and that meant scouting out the entrance to the labyrinth beneath. With no clue where to begin her search, she sidled up to one wall and crept along its length, her hand often slipping to the dagger at her waist.

Hours later, she was exhausted, discouraged, and completely lost. She had been nearly caught several times, having hidden behind pillars and in bushes to avoid the patrolling guards. The section of the palace that she currently trudged through seemed to be entirely deserted, and at the moment, nothing sounded better than curling up on the floor and taking a long nap.

Shaking this thought from her head, she picked up her pace and continued on, the back of her mind nagging about the impending dawn.

"Forget the labyrinth below ground," she muttered to herself. "This whole place is one giant maze." One giant maze leading nowhere, it seemed. Her apprehension grew the longer she went without seeing anyone else. The silence was deadening as she crept further and further along one particular stretch of hallway. Light streamed from an adjoining corridor up ahead, but the only sign of movement was the disjointed flicker of torchlight.

Suddenly, the sound of flesh meeting flesh in an unmistakable slap rang through the air, causing Kagome to jump in surprise. The sharp noise was immediately followed by an indignant rebuke, a feminine voice laced with anger echoing through the empty passageway.

"Keep your hands to yourself, pervert! Just what in the name of Hades did you think you were doing?"

"My dear Sango, it looked lonely! I was merely trying to console it!" a second, very masculine voice protested

"My breast doesn't need any of your consolation, Miroku! Touch it again, and I'll cut off your hand!"

"You could never be so cruel!"

"Try me."

Curiosity overwhelming her, Kagome tiptoed forward and peeked around the corner to view the two speakers. The man, tall and dark-haired, sported a glaring red handprint on one cheek, which he nursed pitifully, a reproachful expression on his face. He dressed in the typical Minoan fashion, but with one minor alteration: his right hand was covered in a fingerless glove and wrist-sheath such as she had never before seen.

The woman was a much more interesting spectacle by far, though. She wore her long, black hair in a high ponytail, and her garb was much like an Athenian male's, the shorter toga leaving her legs bare. Her clothing was attached only at her left shoulder, draping down across her chest and exposing her right breast—or rather, what would have been her right breast. Instead, that side of her bosom was as flat as a man's, an angry red scar running from just beneath her armpit to the middle of her ribcage.

"An Amazon," Kagome breathed with reverent awe. She hadn't encountered many from the tribe of warrior women in her lifetime, but when she was younger she'd dreamed of running away and joining their ranks.

"Honestly," the woman was saying in a longsuffering tone of voice, "this guard job is tedious enough without your perverted advances, Miroku."

"I'm just trying to liven things up," he retorted. "It gets boring sitting here night after night, staring at the wall."

"_I_ stare at the wall. _You_ stare at my chest. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"It fascinates me," he admitted with a sage nod. "How you could willingly destroy such a perfect work of art…"

"You Minoans value breasts far too highly."

"Well, they are a woman's best feature."

She slapped him again, this time on the other cheek. "There's more to a woman than her physical attributes, you know."

"Ow! Of course there is! But is it a crime to appreciate those physical attributes nonetheless? My dear Sango, you are a beautiful woman, and I would be remiss if I didn't recognize it!"

Sango was blushing despite her angry countenance. "Would you try to keep your mind on your job, please?" she huffed.

"What's there to keep my mind on?" Miroku answered, rolling his eyes. "Stand in front of door, make sure no one passes. What else would you have me do?"

"For one thing, you could apprehend the girl that's been spying on us for the past five minutes." The Amazon turned her eyes to the corner Kagome had just disappeared behind. "You can come out now," she called. "We both know you're there."

………

**A/N: For the record, I didn't portray Kikyo in that getup because I'm trying to make her look like a villainous ho-bag. Believe it or not, that's actually authentic Minoan garb. If you're interested in a visual image, type in the following URL (minus the spaces, of course): witcombe. sbc. edu/snakegoddess/ Or you can google the words "Ancient Minoan Costumes," but make sure there are no impressionable youth in the room before you click on the first link. ;-) Minoan women were extremely proud of their breasts, and their clothing was designed to accentuate the profile and shape of that part of the body (which they would also enhance using makeup). **

**You may or may not have noticed the references to tiny waists: this was typical of Minoan culture as well. In order to assure the development of this highly coveted feature, a metal ring would be soldered around young Minoan children's waists (both male and female) and left there as they grew older. Nice.**

**Finally, according to Greek legends, Amazon women ritually removed their right breast and exposed that side of their chest to the world. In fact, one etymology of the word _Amazon_ attributes its origin to that very act: _A_- meaning "without," (as in _amoral, asexual, atypical, _etc.) and _mazon_ from the Greek μαζ-oς, meaning "a breast." And why exactly, you may ask, did these warrior women destroy their right breast? Simply because it interfered with their use of a bow. Now _that's_ dedication. The whole legend, by the way, is apocryphal, but far too much fun to leave out. Sorry, Sango!**


	3. Descent

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the order in which the following words appear. **

………

Chapter Three – Descent

………

"Listen, pervert! You're delusional if you think I'm going to allow you to be the one to escort a defenseless young woman back to her quarters! There's no telling what sort of lecherous acts you'd inflict upon her!"

"Sango, you wound me! I would never perpetrate anything unsavory upon an unwilling participant…"

A loud scoff interrupted his protest. "Since when has willingness had anything to do with it? You feel me up all the time, and I'm certainly not willing! But at least I can defend myself!"

"All too well," came the muttered response.

"You're not taking her back," Sango pronounced firmly. "I'll escort her to her room, and you can keep watch here until I return. That way, we both know she'll get there safely. C'mon you," she directed to Kagome, who had been watching the entire interchange with open amusement.

"Actually," Miroku spoke up, "you can't escort her back either."

The Amazon froze and turned narrowed eyes on him. "And just why not?"

"It's against orders," he shrugged. "Two people are supposed to be guarding this door at all times. You can't leave me here alone. What if something were to happen?"

An irritated sound escaped the female guard's lips. "Nothing ever happens," she ground out.

"That doesn't mean nothing ever will," her counterpart shot back in a singsong voice. "Can you imagine the sort of trouble you'd be in if something _were_ to happen while you were gone?"

Kagome could hear the Amazon's teeth clenching. "What do you propose we do then, Miroku? Just send her back alone?"

He rolled his eyes. "Obviously not. We keep her here with us until the next shift of guards comes along, at which point, we can escort her back to where she belongs. How does that sound to you… er, what did you say your name was?"

"Kagome," the Athenian supplied.

"Kagome, then. How does that sound to you?"

She shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice," she stated

"That's true," he conceded mildly. "So what do you think, Sango?"

"I think you're an ass, Miroku. But I suppose you're right," she added grudgingly, "Though I do find it a bit too convenient that you come up with this solution only after I refused to let you escort the girl yourself."

"Funny the way the mind works, isn't it?" The male guard smiled innocuously and received a glare in return.

………

"…like I said, Aphrodite isn't really even pretty. She's actually quite plain."

"But that makes no sense!" Kagome protested. "Everyone knows Aphrodite is the most beautiful of the goddesses!"

Miroku, though, staunchly shook his head. "She may be the most _desirable_ of the goddesses, but that has more to do with… Well, let's just say she's extremely proficient at her occupation." He flashed a lecherous wink, and Sango slapped the back of his head.

"Pervert," she muttered.

"Hey, I only speak the truth. Trust me—I know firsthand." Unsurprisingly, this comment earned him another swat to the head.

"So you really lived half a year on Mount Olympus?" Kagome inquired dubiously.

Miroku nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as his eyes shifted down to his sheathed right hand. "I did. I went in search of enlightenment, and I returned a wiser man."

The Athenian did not fail to notice where his gaze rested. "May I ask why you wear that glove?" she inquired tentatively, noting that Sango's attention had shifted away, to the door they guarded.

The dark-haired Minoan glanced up, a sad smile on his face. "The glove acts as a restraint for a curse in my hand, a bottomless hole pierced through my palm as punishment for aspiring to touch the wisdom of the gods."

Sango scoffed. "Don't you mean 'for aspiring to touch the backsides of the goddesses'?" she inquired archly. "That's what I heard anyway, that Hera gave you that curse as punishment for your lecherous ways."

"You groped Hera?" Kagome cried, scandalized.

Miroku, though, blanched. "Of course I didn't!"

"Yeah," Sango agreed. "He just groped every other goddess on Olympus, which simply offended Hera."

"Because she's the Protector of Women," Kagome finished logically.

"No. Because he didn't grope her as well," Sango corrected. "Hera can be surprisingly petty about this sort of thing."

"Are you quite done?" interrupted Miroku, a slightly perturbed expression on his face. "Can we move on to another subject, perhaps?"

Sango merely laughed, and a comfortable silence settled across the three of them. In the flickering torchlight, Kagome glanced between the two guards with a faint smile. It seemed almost as though she had known them for years rather than for a little over an hour. They felt like kindred spirits to her, like they could have been great friends in a different lifetime. Part of her wondered if, perhaps, they might be suitable allies in her quest.

"So what exactly is it you two are guarding, anyway?" she spoke up suddenly, a frown creasing her brow. Of all the subjects they had already discussed, this one had yet to come up.

The two guards exchanged uncomfortable glances before averting their eyes to opposite walls. "You'll find out soon enough," Miroku finally replied, his voice somber.

Kagome's eyes widened as several pieces fell into place in her sleep-deprived mind. "Do you mean to tell me that I've been sitting in front of the labyrinth's entrance for the past hour?" she questioned in disbelief, taking both her companions by surprise. "After all that wandering, and getting lost, and getting caught…"

"You were looking for the labyrinth?" Sango interrupted, confused. "Most people try to stay as far away from it as possible! Especially the members of the tribute!"

The Athenian girl frowned, though, her lack of sleep loosening her tongue more than she would have liked. "Why should I avoid it? I've come to slay the monster!" The moment the words fell from her lips, she clapped a hand over her mouth, staring wide-eyed at her two captors.

Sango and Miroku, though, weren't looking at her, but at one another. "Slay it?" the Amazon repeated hesitantly. "But you're only one girl."

An indignant noise escaped Kagome's throat. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeves," she protested.

"A few tricks aren't going to do anything against the monster of Crete," Miroku answered solemnly. "It's been demanding tribute for the last twenty years. Others far stronger and better-trained than you have come along, and not one of them has ever emerged alive."

The atmosphere settled heavily on their shoulders, as though attempting to smother them all. "Are you saying," Kagome spoke up at last, "that I should just accept my lot in life and allow that creature to slaughter myself and my comrades?"

A long, telling look passed between the two guards.

"Miroku," the Amazon said tentatively, as though asking him an unvoiced question.

"Sango," came his negative response. "We can't…"

Kagome observed this interchange with considerable interest, watching as the two communicated almost wordlessly. Her breath caught in her lungs as she waited for the outcome.

It was unspoken, an understanding seeming to spring between them as they both looked away.

"The change of guard is coming," Sango remarked idly, the sounds of footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"It's time you returned to your quarters, Kagome," Miroku added. "We'll take you there."

She felt a pang of disappointment, but stood and brushed the dust off her clothes as though nothing were out of the ordinary. "I'm ready," she stated.

The two new guards stared at the Athenian in open confusion and curiosity, but neither Sango nor Miroku offered an explanation for her presence. Instead, they merely led her away down the hall, never so much as looking back at their replacements.

"You know, Miroku," Sango commented as they trekked through the palace corridors, "the monster is supposed to be at its strongest during the full moon. And no one's ever tried combating it at any other time of the month."

Kagome's attention was drawn away from memorizing their path as she waited for the Minoan's response.

"That's true. A person might actually stand a chance if she sneaked into the labyrinth on any night but the full moon. Of course, she'd have to get in there before _our_ watch, since she'd never be able to get past us."

"And she'd need a way to get out of the labyrinth in the event that she actually _did_ slay the monster. We both know that the king destroyed all maps of that place so that no one would be able to navigate its depths."

"Inuyasha is quite a rash creature, isn't he? But then, the chances of a person actually defeating the monster…"

"If that person has nothing to lose, then why shouldn't she at least try?" Sango interrupted.

Miroku sighed. "Against my better judgement, I'm inclined to agree. But like I said before, she would need to get into the labyrinth before our watch. The twilight shift would be a likely time, since those two are complete idiots…"

"Twilight shift it is," Kagome spoke up with a nod.

Sango and Miroku exchanged an uneasy glance as the three of them came to a halt in the corridor. "We shouldn't be doing this," Miroku stated, speaking directly to the Athenian, "but…"

"Your chances of success are so low," Sango added apologetically. "Any assistance we give will only marginally increase them."

"There's only so much we can tell you," Miroku explained quickly. "The tribute is made every full moon, and every other night a simple meal of bread and goats' milk is left on a table just within the entrance of the labyrinth. You might be able to slip in while the guards are leaving that meal—they tend to leave the door wide open so that they can run away if the monster were ever to appear while they were leaving its food."

"Even then, the food left there doesn't always get eaten," the Amazon added in a conspiratorial whisper. "You can't wait for the monster in that inner chamber. You need to have some means of navigating the labyrinth itself."

Kagome frowned in confusion. "But if all of the maps have been destroyed, how can I…"

"I have an idea!" Sango interrupted, hitting fist to palm in a stroke of enlightenment. "I'll be right back. And if you lay one finger on her while I'm gone, Miroku," she added with a menacing glare toward her Minoan comrade, "I'll break your hand!" With that threat, she abruptly trotted off down the hallway.

Kagome's head was spinning, both from lack of sleep and from this sudden turn of events. She watched the retreating Amazon, wondering what on earth the warrior woman could be going to do. When the tall figure disappeared around a corner, the Athenian turned her attention back to the other guard. Much to her surprise, she found him still staring at the spot where Sango had just been, a strange expression on his face.

"Miroku?" she prompted, jarring him from his contemplation. "Are you all right?"

"The gods really can be cruel sometimes," he randomly commented, a self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips. "Hera in particular gets especially vindictive."

"Were you thinking about your curse?" Kagome inquired in confusion.

"In a manner of speaking," he shrugged, smiling innocently even as he changed the subject. "So tell me, what are these tricks you have up your sleeves?"

It was her turn to make a pleasant face and redirect the conversation. "Oh, nothing special," she answered, knowing better than to discuss such things openly. She had been protected by the gods on several previous occasions and had no reason to think she had fallen into disfavor, but she was loath to voice any of this for fear of falling into hubris. Instead, she changed the subject. "How long have you known Sango?"

He shrugged. "Ever since my return from Olympus. She had arrived here by ship and was hired as a guard shortly before I came back. She and I always seem to be partnered together on our assignments."

"Well, that's nice." Kagome allowed the subject to drop, sensing that there was more behind his words than he chose to reveal. They waited in silence then for the Amazon to return.

Sango reappeared presently, a triumphant expression on her face. With a grand flourish, she snatched up one of Kagome's hands and deposited a large ball of finely spun twine. "I took it from the royal tailors' supplies. They won't miss one."

The Athenian, meanwhile, was staring at the object with much confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked baldly.

"Tie the free end to a torch-ring in the entry chamber of the labyrinth, of course," Sango replied, as though this were the most obvious conclusion in the world. When Kagome's perplexed expression failed to vanish, she added, "You unwind it as you walk through the labyrinth. Then you can always find your way back to the entrance."

"Ah!" Kagome cried, brightening. "That's perfect! Thank you!" On a sudden impulse, she embraced both guards, taking them by surprise.

"Perhaps you should save your gratitude," Miroku answered solemnly, for once in his life having passed on an opportunity to grope a woman. "It's not as though we've saved your life. In fact, we've more than likely hastened your death."

And yet, she flashed him a smile all the same. "I'm still grateful," came her swift response. "May the gods smile down upon you both!"

"If only," the Minoan muttered.

………

Two petrified guards placed a tray on the small wooden table in the center of the underground chamber, completely oblivious of the silent figure that crept down the stairs behind them. "Put the torch in the wall," one commanded the other, "and be quick about it. This place always gives me the creeps!"

The second guard gingerly positioned the burning beacon within an iron ring attached to the wall, and they both retreated up the stairs, back to their post, completely unaware of the presence concealed among the shadows. The door swung shut, its lock clicking into place almost immediately.

Only then did Kagome creep from her hiding place, noting with grim satisfaction how easy it had been to get this far. Directly across the room, a gaping portal stood, its depths pitch-black against the orange glow of the torch. She felt her stomach flip-flop as her imagination suddenly sprung to life. The creature could emerge from that opening at any time, she realized, could be watching her from the darkness even now. For a long moment, her ears strained to hear any sign of life, but the only sounds in this chamber were her quickened breaths and the beating of her heart.

She swallowed once, composing herself, and withdrew the ball of twine hidden on her person. It was certainly nice of the guards to leave the torch behind, she thought as she pulled that object from the wall and tied the lead thread to the iron ring in its place. She really hadn't thought that far ahead.

With one final glance back up the staircase, she took a deep breath, then stepped across the small room, plunging into the darkness of the labyrinth.

………

A loud knock disturbed him from his sleep. As he sat up, the woman next to him stirred and he could almost sense the moment her eyes opened.

"Enter," he called toward the portal.

Light flooded the room, silhouetting the figure in the doorway. "Please forgive my intrusion, your highness."

"What is it?" Inuyasha inquired as Kikyo sat up and turned her attention to the doorway as well.

"Do you believe in redemption from the gods?" the intruder inquired in an odd tone of voice.

"Miroku, what the hell are you talking about? Why did you wake us up?"

"One of the Athenian tribute has escaped to the labyrinth, with the intention of slaying the creature that lives within its depths."

The king's attention immediately snapped to his wife's face, taking in her unreadable expression. "And the rest of the tribute?" he inquired.

"They are enjoying their nightly feast."

A long moment passed. The king's golden eyes never left Kikyo's gray ones. At last, he softly asked, "The Athenian is already within the maze?"

"Yes. What will you do?"

The answer was simple enough. "We will do nothing. When the time comes for the next tribute, offer this runaway's partner alone. Two youths a month… we have not failed in our offering. You may go now."

The guard, however, did not leave. "You didn't answer my question, Inuyasha. Do you believe in redemption from the gods? Or is a cursed man to remain cursed forever?"

The Minoan king never returned his gaze to the door, though. "I don't know what to believe," he admitted quietly. Kikyo gazed back at him, tilting her head slightly in understanding, her eyes brimming with the emotion she would never otherwise display.

The portal shut quietly, drowning them in shadows once more. As her smooth arm slid up over his shoulder, he knew this turn of events was just like every other. They would face whatever came together. _Always together_, he thought, embracing her in the darkness.

………

Kagome felt like she had been walking for hours, the ball of twine in her hand gradually unwinding, always kept taut through the many twists and turns of the labyrinth. Occasionally, she turned to glance back at its trail, marking how it resembled a single, sinewy thread of spider silk. Fitting, considering how many cobwebs draped these passageways.

The floors were littered with broken stones and a thick layer of dust, the whole place having an atmosphere of abandonment and ruin. The spider webs clung to her as she passed, long, gray wisps fluttering as the air shifted. She felt them sticking to her hair, to her arms, to her face. Various footprints reflected in the dust on the ground, and she could imagine past tributes making their way down these very halls, heading toward their doom…

She shuddered at the thought, wondering what had really become of those who had preceded her. So far she had come across no bones or scraps of clothing to indicate that another living creature had even been here. Only those ghostly footprints bore testament that others had once passed this way. Her ears stayed alert for any signs of movement, but the maze seemed deserted, her soft footfalls alone echoing down the corridor. Half of her wanted to scream, to draw the monster to her and get this ordeal over with one way or another.

The heavy stone walls seemed to press down upon her the further inward she trod. Coming upon yet another dead end, she muttered a curse and began backtracking to the nearest fork in the passageway, rewinding the twine as she went.

As she came to the junction, a rustle of wind wafted gently across her cheek, a breath of air circulating the stale underground atmosphere. She whirled, hoping to see its source, dropping the ball of twine and reaching for the knife at her waist as she held her torch aloft.

Her eyes met only with shadows in every direction. For a long moment she stood, peering into the dimness beyond her meager light, listening for even the faintest sound. The draft was gone, though, the air still once more.

Sighing in frustration, she replaced her knife in its sheath and bent to retrieve her ball of twine. It was considerably smaller than when she had originally descended into this dark maze, and Kagome wondered how much of the rough thread trailed behind her, marking her egress. It hung limp at the moment, and she frowned, tugging at it to regain tension in its length. As she fruitlessly pulled at the dust-encumbered strand, her heart leapt into her throat in sudden panic.

Somewhere in the maze behind her, the twine had been severed.

………

**A/N: No author's notes for this chapter. :-)**


	4. The Monster Within

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Inuyasha_, the myth of the Labyrinth, or the concept that inspired this story. I just wrote the dumb thing.**

………

Chapter Four—The Monster Within

………

Hojo was not enjoying himself.

Granted, he was part of a group of human sacrifices, which pretty much put a damper on any festivities he had to attend, but the Minoans seemed to be going out of their way to make sure these final months—or days—were wonderful ones for the members of the tribute. Food, wine, entertainment—all were provided for the Athenians to partake in. Some among their number actually _were_ enjoying themselves.

He sighed into a plate of sumptuous food, ignoring the troupe of dancers in the center of the room. Of course the others were enjoying themselves. They weren't alone. They hadn't been abandoned by their partner. Taking a deep quaff from his wine cup, he allowed his melancholy to intensify, feeling sorely put upon.

Why had Lady Kagome run off, he wondered. Was she afraid? But that didn't make any sense. She hadn't even been part of the original tribute—from what little they'd been told, she had volunteered for the position. And then to up and disappear… Had he scared her off himself?

Hojo blushed to the roots of his hair, recalling his veiled suggestion to her the night before. It had been very forward of him—she must have been extremely offended to have stayed away the entire night. In retrospect, he should have refrained from even hinting at such an activity, should have remained a perfect gentleman as always. He was mortified now to even think of it. In fact, he had even tried to apologize to her when she reappeared a couple hours after dawn, but to no avail. She had brushed him off, flopping onto the bed and immediately falling asleep.

Having stayed up all night, sick with worry, Hojo had curled up in the corner of their shared quarters, wrapped in his himation, drifting into a deep slumber of his own. He awoke hours later only to discover that Kagome had vanished again.

When the guards came to summon both of them for the evening's festivities, Hojo timidly told them that Kagome was feeling unwell and wished to remain behind. After all, he still had hopes that she would return, and he didn't want to get her into trouble.

Somehow, though, the truth had spread among the Athenians.

As the evening's revelry progressed, the other men kept casting him derisive glances. A few had even made derogatory comments to him under their breaths, about his inability to please a woman, among other things. Hojo felt ashamed enough already without them adding salt to his internal wound. So he distanced himself from them all, feeling his solitude keenly, knowing it was going to be a long night.

"Excuse me," said an apologetic voice at his shoulder.

In surprise, he turned to find three Athenian maidens standing behind him, each sporting an expression of pity coupled with a light blush. "Can we sit with you?" the one in the center finished, tentatively pushing a lock of dark, wavy hair behind one ear. "We heard about Lady Kagome, and we think it's just awful that you would have to be alone here."

Their eyes were full of sincerity, he realized with wonder. Before he could react, all three young women had taken the surrounding seats, turning their rapt attention upon him. "You don't mind if we're here, do you?" another one asked, her expression wistful.

"Shouldn't you be with your partners?" Hojo inquired, feeling a bit sheepish.

"They're pigs!" the third girl proclaimed with a contemptuous sniff. "At least mine is. Please don't make me go back to him!"

"Or me!"

"Me neither!"

He gaped at them, wide-eyed and hardly understanding what was going on. "O-okay," he nodded. "I'd like some company, actually."

Three faces beamed brightly. "I'm Yuka," the first girl introduced herself. "This is Eri, and that's Ayumi. Is there anything we can do for you, Hojo?"

Well, he mused, things were suddenly looking up.

………

It wasn't there.

Kagome had calmed herself enough to follow the limp trail of twine back through the maze, retracing her steps with the hopes of discovering the severed ends and tying them back together. The fine, thin cord left off in the center of a small chamber, though, with no sign of its mate.

She loomed over it, studying it in the dancing torchlight. The threads looked rough and mangled, as though cut with a dull knife… or _chewed through_… She shuddered at the thought, suddenly whirling to shine light down each of the five corridors that branched from this one small room. Each in turn was empty.

"Okay, Kagome," she murmured to herself, trying to maintain some semblance of control, "now is not the time to lose your head. The thread will have made a trail in the dust, whichever way it was dragged. You'll know that's the right path."

To appease her own mind more than anything else, she withdrew the knife from her waist and gripped its handle, warily pacing across the room in search of any sort of trail. She could hardly discern her own footprints on the ground, though, let alone a thread of displaced dirt. With rising panic, her mind began to grasp one single thought: she was lost.

Well, at least it didn't matter which direction she took anymore. Now the only problem was in the choosing. She knew which of the five paths she had just come from, so she could always resume her forage down those corridors. Or she could choose one of the other four in an attempt to retrace her steps back to the entrance.

"I should have just taken my chances waiting in that first room," she muttered, disgruntled. The monster would be sure to appear some time over the course of the next few days, after all, even if he didn't come that night.

A woeful breath escaped her lungs as she slowly turned in a circle, torch upraised while she weighed her options. None of the corridors was particularly inviting. Her eyes slid shut, and she turned blindly, pointing her knife straight in front of her. "And it will be…" she murmured, making a game out of the choosing, "…that one!" Pausing in her rotation, she opened her eyes to find her weapon leveled at one of the stone walls.

"…to the right of that wall," she added, quickly orienting herself to the nearest passageway. As her eyes alighted upon her chosen path, she shrieked and dropped her knife.

A man stood in the opening, leaning against its frame and watching her with curious eyes. He was naked from the waist up, as were all the Minoan men, and he had his arms folded over his chest in an almost disapproving posture. His face, severe in its expression, was perfectly formed, as though carved from living marble by the hand of a master. He looked almost statuesque, in fact, were it not for the cascade of dark hair tumbling over his shoulders and down his back. No marble could ever capture that effect quite so well.

"W-who are you?" Kagome faltered, scrambling to pick up her weapon once more, then brandishing it in front of her. "A guard?"

One dark eyebrow arched as the man wordlessly continued to stare.

"Well?" she prompted, feeling annoyance surging within her. "Who are you?"

"Who are _you_?" he replied, his quiet voice carrying clearly in the stillness of the labyrinth.

"I… My name is Kagome. Who are you?"

The man pushed off the archway he had been leaning against, stepping toward her with narrowed eyes. "And what are you doing here, Kagome?" he inquired instead of answering, enunciating her name as he spoke.

Her knife raised a fraction as her grip tightened. "I asked you who you were."

Pausing in his advance, he favored her with a wry smile. "Some have called me Naraku," he answered.

"Naraku," she repeated, trying it out. "And you're not a guard? Are you one of the past tribute? What are you doing down here?"

"I believe I asked you that question first." In the quavering light of the torch, his expression seemed to harden. "You're part of the tribute, that much I can see for myself, but what are you doing down here? Don't you know this place is dangerous?"

"I'm here to put an end to that danger," she answered, defiance flashing in her blue eyes. "I'm here to kill the monster, and you can't stop me!"

Much to her surprise, a smile twisted his lips as a short, disdainful laugh echoed through the room. "Are you sure about that?" he queried, seemingly amused. "You don't even know what that monster looks like, even as he stands before you!"

Quick as lightening, he struck the torch from her grip, then caught hold of her other wrist, twisting it ruthlessly until her blade clattered to the ground. Kagome gasped in pain, wrenching herself away from him as terror clutched her heart. She tried to bolt first one direction, then the other, only to find him blocking her egress both ways. He could move faster than anyone she'd ever before seen, her mind dimly registered through a pulse of adrenaline.

Before she knew what was happening she found herself with her back against the wall, the cold stone piercing her through her clothes. Naraku had a hand on either side of her, his long fingers spread and his arms preventing her from another escape attempt. Kagome clutched her right hand to her shoulder as though making a futile attempt to shield herself from harm. His strong arms angled as he leaned in, his body separated from hers by only a fraction of space. She cringed away, her head turned toward the sputtering blaze of the torch lying upon the ground.

It coughed and choked in the dust and cobwebs, fading and dying before her very eyes.

Her pupils dilated in the oppressive darkness as she gasped; she could hear only her own labored breathing now… and _his_… Both figures stood frozen in shadow, close enough to touch but not touching, tension writhing through the air like a creature in agony. She sensed his movement, _felt_ his head bend toward her in the inky blackness; her heart crashed against her chest in cruel foreboding…

"Are you afraid?"

He whispered the simple query in her ear, his warm breath ghosting across the soft, sensitive skin of her neck and causing a shiver to run down her spine. She knew he must have detected that slight movement within her, could practically feel his self-satisfied smirk. Had her wits been calm and collected, she would have cursed her body for such a weak reaction. As it was, she was nearly in pieces, her nerves frayed and her thoughts stilted and incoherent. Her mind only registered the overpowering presence hovering against her in the dark, and how he enjoyed every second of her terror.

Her blood froze in her veins, then burst into an unfamiliar fire as he deeply inhaled the scent of her hair. She wasn't breathing any longer, wasn't moving…

"Well?" he prompted mockingly, his voice both a razor and a caress. "Are you afraid?" One of his hands brushed delicately against her collarbone before lightly grazing her face.

His touch was like a trigger point, wresting Kagome's mind from the numbness into which it had retreated. In a flash, her cold fingers clenched around the fibula at her right shoulder, and she tore it from the folds of cloth, stabbing blindly at her oppressor. She heard him cry out in surprise and pain, felt him retreat fractionally even as she broke away, stumbling against the wall, hand seeking desperately for the closest passageway.

Her touch fell upon a corner, and the next instant, she was hurtling through the darkness, running as swiftly as her feet would carry her, arms outstretched and eyes straining to see even a shred of light. Twice she tripped and fell, scrambling to her feet again, terrified of being caught.

It wasn't until after her second tumble that she realized no one was pursuing her.

_Why…?_

She halted in the shadowed corridor, catching her breath, her mind stumbling over that one question. It wasn't as though she _wanted_ a dark, sinister man to chase her, but she had just assumed he would. Perhaps her blind stab had truly injured him? Perhaps he had only been toying with her, had never meant her harm…?

_But if he _was_ the monster…_

Too determined for her own good, Kagome suddenly found herself whirling, retracing her steps, fumbling along the walls and racking her brain to remember which direction she had come. Her heart pounded in her ears, but she quelled her panic nonetheless, nursing her instinctive curiosity instead.

She hadn't run very far, actually, had only rounded a couple of corners. To her overwhelming astonishment, she discovered a warm glow at the end of the second corridor, beckoning to her, inviting her.

The torch had been relit.

With every ounce of stealth she could muster in her shaken state, she tiptoed back to the chamber she had fled moments previous, cautiously peering into its depths. She was just in time to see the dark-haired man place the blazing torch within an iron ring attached to the wall. His expression was one of controlled malevolence, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a thin line. Gingerly, he touched one hand to the trickle of blood on his left shoulder—the wound she had inflicted—drawing back his fingers and studying the dark smear as though it were not part of him. It was little more than a scratch, she realized from her hiding place; it had probably startled him more than anything else.

Fascinated, she watched as he turned with fluid grace and crossed to the opposite corridor; he paused on the threshold long enough to cast a hostile sneer in her direction, clearly aware of her ill-concealed presence.

Then, he disappeared into the darkness of the labyrinth once more.

The stab of relief she felt quickly melted away into sheer confusion as her eyes remained fixed on that empty portal. He claimed to be the monster, yet he hadn't killed her, had made no attempt to do anything more than ruffle her feathers, really…

Kagome's bewilderment devolved into irritation, a frown creasing her brow. Something was not adding up here.

With renewed conviction, she snatched the torch from the wall and barreled down the hallway, chasing after the supposed killer. "Hey!" she called, no longer afraid to let her voice echo through the deserted corridors. "Where are you?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed a movement of shadow further down the passageway; she quickened her pace, rounding the next corner and coming to an abrupt halt. He was waiting there for her, only a few paces ahead, dark eyes glaring balefully.

For a long moment, the two of them stood in silence, watching one another with wary gazes, sizing each other up as two cats deciding whether to do battle or not. At last, Kagome worked up the courage to speak, her voice ringing out with force.

"You say you're the monster… why do you not try to kill me?"

In response to her question, he laughed, the sound drenched in bitterness as a sardonic smile twisted his lips. "You'll meet your death soon enough," he answered flatly, stepping away from her, into the darkness beyond the torch's halo of light. "Do not crave it prematurely."

She heard his steps retreating, could barely discern his figure swathed among the shadows.

"Wait!" she called, stumbling after him.

His voice floated back to her, a firm, dispassionate command. "Don't follow me."

"So what in the name of Hades am I supposed to do?" she countered, halting in the corridor all the same. No reply met her ears. "Wonderful," she grumbled, kicking a pile of rock.

………

"Kikyo." He whispered her name in the dark and felt her shift next to him, a silent acknowledgment that she was listening. "Are you worried?"

The woman next to him lay very still for a long moment, making him wonder whether she would even answer him.

"Worried?" she repeated at last. "That someone else might accomplish what I could not?"

It was as much of an answer as he would get, and he expected nothing more. Gathering her in his arms, he kissed the top of her scented head and closed his eyes, determined to drift back asleep as though everything in the world were perfect.

………

The pungent smell of burning oil seeped into her senses, gradually rousing her from blissful slumber. Kagome opened her eyes slowly, focusing on the long line of torches that stretched down the hallway.

_Where on earth…?_

Her memories crashed down upon her like a lightening bolt from Olympus. She was in the labyrinth, she was completely lost, and—of all things—she had fallen asleep in some random corridor, exhausted.

Bolting upright, she brushed the dust from her clothes, feeling it cling to her skin despite her best efforts to rid herself of it. She mentally cursed her stupidity—how could she just curl up and take a nap in the middle of a deathtrap, as though there were no danger lurking in these dark corridors?

Dark…?

For the first time, her mind actually registered the amount of light surrounding her. The torches were evenly spaced, extending both directions. She had only possessed one when she lay down in sheer exhaustion hours before. It had taken its lonely spot on the wall, a single, star-like beacon amid the gloom of the underground maze, soon to burn out. She remembered having the vague expectation of waking up in blackness

"What in the name of Zeus…?" she wondered aloud. Someone had brought torches into the darkness of the maze. Not just someone, she realized quite suddenly. _Him._ Her mind conjured an image of that man—Naraku—that she had encountered earlier. He was the only other one down here, the one who claimed to be the monster of Crete. If he had come across her sleeping, shouldn't he have killed her?

Turning in her position on the floor, she half-expected to see him looming over her, a crazed, feverish glimmer in his eyes. Instead, her gaze fell upon a small, loosely wrapped bundle. Drawing back one corner of the ragged cloth, she found nestled within half a loaf of flatbread and a small drinking skin which she discovered to contain goats' milk. Her stomach rumbled quite suddenly, reminding her that it had been several hours since she had last had anything to eat, and she gratefully devoured the small offering.

Polishing off the last few crumbs of bread, she stood, brushing off her skirt as best she could. Something prickled at the back of her senses. This wasn't right, wasn't how things were supposed to be. The monster of the labyrinth was supposed to slaughter her, not offer her hospitality. Either reports of this maze and the creature that inhabited it were wildly inaccurate, or something was seriously wrong.

The only way to discover the truth, she realized, would be to discover the whereabouts of Naraku himself. Haphazardly picking a direction, she headed down the passageway in the hopes of coming across him. After all, he was surely keeping some sort of tabs on her…

As she traveled through the twists and turns of the maze, she discovered that many corridors were not lit, that the torches only lined certain passages. Upon her initial realization, her heart leapt within her with a sudden surge of hope. Perhaps he had illuminated the way out.

An hour later, that hope had dashed to the ground, in pieces like the many crumbled stones littering her path. The labyrinth was difficult enough to navigate, but one thing she did realize: every new direction she chose seemed to take a downward turn, as though pulling her into the belly of the maze itself. There was no sign of Naraku, and she had the sudden, sneaking suspicion that he was merely playing with her, keeping her lost forever.

"This is ridiculous," she pronounced, coming upon a small chamber that had several paths branching from it. Some were lit, while others were gaping holes of darkness. With a sudden resolve, Kagome snatched a torch from the wall and headed directly for one of the unlit corridors.

"Don't do that."

The sound of another voice made her jump nearly out of her skin. Whirling, her eyes fell upon an obscured figure just within the black mouth of another passage. "What?" she demanded tartly, barely able to discern Naraku's person in the shadows.

"Don't stray from the lighted paths," he replied flatly.

"And what if I do?"

"Just don't."

He receded back, just another layer of shadow, vanishing into the darkness.

"Wait!" Kagome called, starting after him.

"Don't follow me. Stay to your lighted paths."

A petulant breath forced it way out of her lungs. "Why do you get to run off into the darkness?" she demanded, feeling extremely childish in her pique.

The answer was simple enough. "Because I dwell in darkness. Run along now, little Kagome."

………

"Well, so I was wrong. The torches do lead somewhere."

Kagome stared with mild astonishment at the expanse in front of her, the wide, underground cavern that stretched out into oblivion. Behind her, the path of torches led back into the maze, and she wondered whether its builder had originally known of these caverns, or whether he had stumbled upon them during construction.

Either way, the man had obviously been a genius.

Before her, sparkling in the dim torchlight, was a rippling pool of water, its slight waves lapping gently against the thick clay shore. It must have had some sort of outlet, she realized, or else it would have been stagnant and scum-encrusted. For a moment, she idly wondered whether the monster of Crete were actually a vicious sea creature. Perhaps Naraku was merely a pawn who led the members of the tribute to their death in this wide cavern, much like Sciron and the giant turtle. She had encountered that duo on the road to Athens so long ago, had escaped by the gods' mercy alone, truth be told…

The water seemed to glow with an ethereal beauty, clean and pure and inviting. Kagome felt the grit of dust against her skin, in her hair, on her clothes… She hated feeling dirty.

Wistfully glancing back toward the tunnel that led back into the depths of the labyrinth, she resolutely stepped away from it, her nimble fingers going to the girdle at her waist. Sea monster or not, she was taking a bath.

She unpinned and removed her outer peplos, shaking the dirt from it as best she could before folding it neatly and placing it on the ground. Her fibulae and girdles she carefully laid on top of that, her hands automatically pulling the ties from her hair and adding them to the pile. She paused briefly before removing her close-fitting tunic, her eyes darting back toward the maze's entrance to find it empty still. She had the vague suspicion that she was being watched, but in the dim lighting, she reasoned, her voyeur wouldn't get much of a show.

Stripping that last garment away, she tossed it back toward her pile of clothing and stepped into the cold water of the underground pool. It chilled her to the bone, but she pushed her discomfort away, plunging forward and dropping beneath the surface. The water was fresh, probably a small, underground tributary that would eventually feed into the sea. Kagome had no interest in discovering where it led, though. She was already lost enough without adding subterranean waterways into the mix.

He was watching her. She felt his gaze upon her as she surfaced, droplets of water coursing down the side of her face. She couldn't see his location, but she knew for a certainty that he was there, and for a moment, she felt violated, much like Artemis upon being discovered by Actaeon. That sensation vanished almost instantly, however. After all, it could be worse. Andromeda had been chained naked to a cliff side when Perseus came upon _her_. Kagome had stripped of her own free will, knowing she might be watched and heedless of that warning. And from her vantage point in the water, she could plainly discern her pile of clothing at the shore, so it wasn't as though she had to _remain_ naked.

Modesty never had been one of her more prominent virtues.

By the time she had left the pool, wiped the excess water from her skin, and once more attired herself in her close-fitting under-tunic, she knew where he was hidden. He was an extension of the cavern wall, she observed as she wrapped and tied her sodden hair around her head. He was just another undefined shape, bathed in shadows and completely still, almost perfectly blending into his surroundings.

He had probably been there before she had come, she realized. She could easily see someone seeking out solitude in such a place as this rather than dwelling in the grime and gloom of the labyrinth itself. She had intruded on his haven. Then again, he had left a trail of torches to bring her here…

"You don't have to stay hidden, you know," she commented idly, unfolding the large rectangular cloth—the _himation_—that would form her outer garb. She began the painstaking process of draping and pleating and pinning and tying that was involved in creating a suitable peplos. "I know you're there."

She focused her attention on the task at hand, pretending that his presence was nothing out of the ordinary, that she dressed before the eyes of the world on a regular basis. Her actions were languid, precise rather than hurried, practiced. As she tied the second girdle in place at her hip, she heard a rustle of movement in the corner she had pointedly ignored.

"You're not like the others." It was pronounced almost as a condemnation. Kagome looked up to find Naraku standing next to the labyrinth's entrance, his shadowed eyes narrow and suspicious.

"How so?" she inquired steadily

"You don't hide in terror behind your male counterpart, for one thing. What became of him, by the way? They always send you down here in pairs."

"I left him behind," she answered with a twinge of guilt, wondering how Hojo was fairing at the moment.

"Why? Don't you need him to protect you?" His words were infused with mocking bitterness. "Don't you need someone to cling to and cry upon?"

"Hojo probably would have liked that," she allowed with a shrug. "I really didn't know him all that well."

"Perhaps _he_ would be crying on _your_ shoulder," Naraku suggested with a wicked tilt of his lips. "I've seen that happen as well. Usually both are crying together."

She tipped her head to one side, scrutinizing his silhouette against the backdrop of flickering torches. "You sound as though you enjoy it, but I don't think you do. You're trying to make yourself out to be worse than you really are."

His smirk turned sour. "You don't know what you're talking about, Kagome," he sneered, spitting out her name as though it were a curse. "You should learn to keep your odd little ideas to yourself." He turned away from her then, heading back into the labyrinth, clearly signaling that their conversation was over.

Kagome, though, was never one to be brushed off so easily. Picking up her skirts, she trotted after him. "I think I'm closer to the truth than you'd like to admit," she countered, keeping pace just behind him.

"Don't follow me," was his only response.

"I'm tired of wandering this place alone," she retorted, doggedly staying on his heels. He lengthened his stride to get away from her, but she refused to allow him escape.

Suddenly, he whirled on her, eyes blazing, striking momentary terror into her heart. In a flash, he gripped both her arms, slamming her against the wall, ignoring her gasp of pain as his fingers dug bruises into her tender flesh. "I told you not to follow me," he growled through tightly gritted teeth. "Why do you not obey?"

Her eyes frantically searched his for any signs of mercy, but found none. "If you're a monster, I have to kill you," she replied truthfully, her voice unnaturally calm. "I can't do that if you're lost somewhere on the other side of this godforsaken maze."

Naraku released her and turned away with a grunt. "_I'm_ not the one getting lost down here," he retorted caustically. "And if you really intend to kill me, your technique is lacking."

"Same to you," she shot back. "You're supposed to be some unspeakable monster, and yet you leave trails of torchlight for me; I wake up with half of your meal next to me; in fact, the only thing even remotely threatening about you is your glare, and even that's not really frightening once a person grows accustomed to seeing it! So where's the real monster, Naraku? Where's the fabled monster of Crete that has devoured a generation of youths across the known world? Are you hiding it? Or does it even really exist?"

He snarled and turned on her, pinning her to the wall again, shoving his face only inches away from hers. "You don't know what you're talking about," he rumbled lowly, holding her gaze, his dark eyes burning with more anger than she had yet seen him display.

Her heart pounded against her ribs and she was keenly aware of his nearness, of how their breaths mingled together. "Then tell me," she whispered, afraid to move, desperately seeking any clue that could unlock the mystery before her.

With a frustrated grimace, Naraku wrenched himself away and stormed off down the corridor.

Gingerly, Kagome picked up her trailing skirts and followed.

………

"Miroku?"

The Minoan guard was startled from his thoughts, turning in surprise to find Sango standing not five paces away from him.

"Are you all right?" the Amazon inquired tentatively. "You looked so serious…"

His face broke into a false smile that failed to reach his eyes. "I'm wonderful," he lied; his expression turned contemplative. "It's not often that we see each other outside of guard duty," he added speculatively. "Dare I hope that you sought me out of your own accord?"

She scoffed. "This meeting is completely coincidental."

"Lady Fortune must be on my side, then, to allow me to encounter such beauty as yours."

Sango's eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

"I assure you I am completely sober," he answered a little too grimly. He turned away from her then, back to the railing that overlooked the city. Much to his surprise—though he wouldn't admit it to save his soul—Sango took a place next to him, her own gaze traveling out toward the bright Mediterranean on the horizon.

"Are you thinking of her?"

He knew perfectly well who _her_ referred to. "Sort of. I was actually thinking about how divine retribution isn't meant to be reversed. But then, I suppose it's the same thing. I feel guilty about letting her descend into the labyrinth when I know we could have prevented it."

The Amazon, though, shook her head. "Prevented it? Kagome was _sent_ here to descend into the labyrinth. That's the purpose of the tribute. Though I'll never understand why they continue it."

"They refused once, long ago," the dark-haired Minoan answered, his eyes fixed on some unseen memory. "The monster broke free of the labyrinth and slaughtered twelve guards before they could contain it again. Something—some deity, perhaps—keeps it alive, unable to be harmed. Kagome had no chance for victory. A curse like this isn't meant to be broken."

He clenched his gloved fist, an action that did not go unnoticed by Sango.

"You never know," she answered thoughtfully. "It doesn't do to give up hope, after all. That's the one thing the gods have given us to combat the misery and despair of this world. So anything's possible."

Miroku flashed her a lecherous grin. "Including you sharing my bed tonight?"

"Anything but that," Sango amended, rolling her eyes.

"So tomorrow night's a possibility?"

"_Miroku_…"

………

"Where exactly did all of these torches come from, anyway?"

Naraku spared her a cursory glance, barely pausing in his progress down the hall. "The guards leave one every night," he answered tightly. "They tend to pile up."

"Oh." She closed her mouth and kept pace with him rather than talking. If her sleep cycles were any sort of indication, it had been three or four days since she had come into this darkness. Kagome was certain she would have gone insane by now were it not for the dark figure striding just ahead of her. Granted, he had ditched her the first two times she fell asleep, but she had easily discovered that he would appear as soon as she stepped down one of the darkened corridors.

Apparently he _really_ didn't want her exploring those.

After she figured that much out, she always found him nearby when she awoke. He seemed to accept that she was going to tag after him, though he refused to be happy about it. Still, they seemed to have some sort of unspoken truce. He would tell her to get lost, and she would pointedly ignore him, trailing after him like a faithful pup. He displayed his annoyance, and Kagome found his bristling attitude to be amusing, much to her own surprise.

She also found her eyes being drawn to him almost magnetically, and with alarming frequency. At first she reasoned with herself that it was because she feared him disappearing, leaving her alone in the darkness and solitude of the maze. As time in his presence progressed, however, that excuse seemed to become more and more feeble.

"I could commit all sorts of vile acts against you, you know," he said out of the blue, one of the few voluntary comments he had ever made.

"You _could_, but if you were going to, you'd have done them by now," she countered with a smile, knowing full well that her cheerfulness rubbed him the wrong way.

"I think I'm going to enjoy watching you die," he sneered half-heartedly.

"Whatever you say," Kagome answered with a careless shrug. She honestly didn't believe he was capable of such things.

………

Three piteous screams echoed through the hallways of the Tribute House, causing several Athenians to poke their heads out of their rooms to see what was going on.

"Please! Don't take him!"

"Not yet! It's not fair!"

"Take Kotatsu instead! No one wants him!"

Three Athenian maidens clutched to one flustered male, their eyes streaming with tears as two guards tried to drag away the object of their adoration.

"Hojo!" the first maiden howled, clinging to his arm.

"Hojo!" sobbed the second, pulling at his toga.

"Hojo!" A wail erupted from the third as she fell behind and crumpled to the ground in a miserable heap.

The Minoan guards heartlessly continued on, eventually shaking free the other two, dragging a stammering Hojo away across the grounds. It was the night of the full moon.

The time of tribute had come.

………

He sat with his back to her now, his long, dark hair tumbling carelessly down to his waist. From her vantage point by the wall of the wide chamber they sat in, she watched him carve the end of an unlit torch, his lithe body poised and shifting slightly as he worked. In a show of open mockery, he was using the knife she had originally brought with her, that he had apparently confiscated upon that first meeting.

No doubt the seasoned wood was doing wonders for the sharpness of the blade, she thought dourly.

He was talented enough at sculpting the wood, though, cutting and shaving off the unnecessary pieces until only a well-formed figurine remained. This was his third one so far, and it was proving more and more difficult to shape as the blade dulled, if his muttered curses were anything to go by.

The knife would certainly be ruined, but Kagome found she didn't mind so much, considering this gave her an opportunity to observe him without having to endure any caustic remarks. He really was a thing of beauty, she decided, though she would sooner die than tell him as much. His lips pursed in concentration, and several fleeting thoughts danced across her mind, primarily a brief speculation as to what those lips would feel like against her skin…

"You're staring."

His quiet voice broke her from her reverie, and she thanked the dimness of the torchlight for masking her blush. "What of it?" she retorted.

"Why must you always follow me around?"

"Did you ever consider leading me back to the entrance and telling the guards to take me away?" she countered.

Naraku grunted. "Just so you could be tossed back down at the time of tribute? Too much effort."

"Then stop complaining."

She should have felt more chagrined than she did, but she knew full well that he watched her as well, when he thought she wasn't looking. She had felt his gaze on her so many times that it was almost becoming an extension of her psyche. As such, he could hardly justify protesting when she returned the favor. Besides, he really was something worth looking at.

To appease his irritation, though, Kagome turned her attention instead to a small wooden harpy he had finished carving some time earlier. Its face was grotesque, its rumpled wings folded protectively over a half-naked body. It really was an ugly little piece, she thought, but the amount of talent that went into it amazed her. He could have been a skilled artisan, had the gods seen fit to place him in different circumstances…

The knife suddenly fell to the ground, a metallic clatter echoing through the chamber. Kagome's gaze jerked up just in time to see Naraku double over as though possessed with overwhelming pain. In an instant she was on her feet, lunging forward to help him, but he flung himself away.

"Fool!" he cried, freezing her in her tracks with his searing glare. His face contorted into a terrifying grimace, and one word fell from his lips, rife with urgent warning.

"_Run!"_

………

**A/N: To anyone wondering how Kagome managed to pull a leg bone from her shoulder and stab Naraku with it, a _fibula_ is also the term for a clasp or broach used to fasten clothing. There's a myth connected to the Greek women's costume, in which the women of Athens stabbed to death a lone soldier returning from war, using only their fibulae to do the deed. That tale was my inspiration for Kagome's reaction, actually.**


	5. Redemption

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the order in which the following words appear.**

**WARNING: Shameless _Deus Ex Machina_ up ahead!**

………

Chapter Five — Redemption

………

The full moon hung low in the eastern horizon, a pale, milky beacon. Miroku watched it with a more than usually grim expression. "If she's not dead yet, it will soon come," he quietly commented.

Next to him, Sango stiffened. "What do you mean?" she inquired. "Kagome went down there days ago – why is her death only now impending?"

He turned wise eyes on her. "The monster only appears at the full moon. At all other times, he is just a man. As a monster, he kills indiscriminately, but I don't know if as a man he is even capable of such acts. Perhaps by now, he is."

The Amazon recoiled slightly, processing this information. Then, her brow furrowed deeply. "How do you know this?" she demanded. "Have you been inside the labyrinth?"

Ruefully shaking his head, he shifted his attention back to the rising moon. "He has not always lived inside the labyrinth," he explained. "It took several years to construct after the monster's birth – the rumors are true," he added, sensing Sango's confusion. "It is a child born by the queen herself. In its infancy, the tribute could be satisfied with sacrificial animals – lambs, goats, eventually cattle. I'm not certain how old the child was when the first human sacrifices began. At the night of the full moon, they would barricade child and sacrifice in a reinforced room and leave it locked until the next morning. When the room was opened again, the child would be removed and the remains honorably dealt with."

Sango was staring at him with wide, horrified eyes. Miroku cast her a sympathetic glance before continuing his narrative. "It was one of my first duties as a guard here, watching that room one night a month. The boy would be asleep when it was opened the next morning, and carried from the place without ever seeing the victims. When he awoke, he would speak of nightmares, but it seemed he did not truly remember what occurred during the night. He hated that room, hated having to be shut up there, and would often ask what became of the others that went with him."

"No one ever told him the truth?" asked Sango, hardly believing the tale.

Her fellow guard shook his head. "One time, he woke up before we could remove him, saw the corpses of his victims, and finally connected his 'nightmares' with the reality before him. I've never seen anything like it, the shattered look in his eyes as he stared down at his own hands and tried to deny everything. He was only a child and didn't understand the nature of the gods, or of retribution. After that, shutting him in the room became increasingly more difficult. He would hide, he would try to warn the tribute to run. Half the time, they didn't speak the language, and the other half, they only laughed at what he said. He was just a boy, after all. And once, he begged for the tribute to be withheld. It was a mistake, and the resulting chaos changed him. The royal architect, Totosai, finished the labyrinth soon after, and the boy went in without a fight. He has been there ever since."

"That's awful," the Amazon murmured, eyes cast sightlessly downward.

"I thought so too," said Miroku. "It's one of the reasons I sought Mount Olympus. But in cases such as these, the gods have little compassion for mortals. Divine retribution wouldn't be nearly as effective if they simply took it back, you know."

His gloved hand clenched into a fist. He was surprised when Sango's smaller hand fell atop it, squeezing it in a gesture of comfort. She didn't say anything, just offered him a wan smile and turned her attention back to the moon, and to the glittering sea on the horizon.

Miroku might have been content to stay like this with her forever, free to study her profile out of the corner of her eyes, to bask beside her in the pale light of the moon. A twinge in his gloved hand brought him out of his reverie, though. The hole there was only half of Hera's curse. The other half…

"_You shall burn with love for a woman you can never have. You will know the pain of rejection most keenly."_

At the time, he had not thought such a thing possible. He believed his charm could attain for him any woman he desired, as it always had. Upon his return from Olympus, though, Sango had appeared in his life and promptly shattered that belief. The curse was fulfilled just as Hera had spoken it.

Sliding his hand reluctantly from hers, he patted her on the arm. "You should get some sleep," he admonished. "The midnight shift is ours, so you'll need your rest. Unless," he added slyly, "you'd like to occupy your time in some more interesting activities. I'd be more than happy to oblige."

"Lecher," Sango muttered, swatting at him even as she stepped away.

"My dear Sango, where is your mind?" he innocently inquired. "I was simply going to propose a game of draughts. If you have something better in mind, however…"

She snorted, shaking her head ruefully. "Goodnight, Miroku," she said, turning away from him.

"Goodnight, Sango," he murmured once she was out of earshot. "Thank you for the moonrise."

………

Kagome stumbled backward, falling against the chamber wall, wide eyes never leaving the spectacle before her. She watched, horrified, as Naraku writhed in pain, doubling over against the ground. His flesh seemed to dance in the blaze of torchlight, an inchoate mass springing to life before her very eyes. Four black protrusions burst from his back as his skin darkened to a dull gray, and his body contorted, shuddering and morphing into an indistinguishable form. Gradually, it took shape, eight hairy limbs extending to the ground, holding aloft a massive, bulging body.

She took in the sight, the myriad of shining, beady black eyes and the two deadly fangs dripping with slime, and she felt her heart leap into her throat, sudden understanding flashing to her mind.

_The Monster of Crete…_

The gargantuan spider lunged at her, and she dodged to the side, snatching a torch from the wall and flinging it in the creature's face. It shrieked and recoiled, and Kagome took the opportunity to vault off down the nearest corridor, a short, narrow opening that led to a wider passage lined with torches. She heard the spider scramble after her, but it was too large to fit through her chosen egress. With a scream of frustration, it whirled and lumbered through one of the broader doorways. Kagome could hear the dry rustle of its legs as it moved off into the labyrinth, no doubt seeking another path to her.

She could barely contain the erratic racing of her heart, feeling very close to fainting, suddenly realizing that she had tears coursing down her cheeks. In numb wonder, one hand reached up to touch the salty tracks; she had no time for grief, she decided the next instant. Naraku knew the labyrinth perfectly, and no doubt so did the spider. She couldn't reconcile in her mind that they were one and the same; he _couldn't_ be… For all his feigned cruelty, he simply couldn't be. He prized control above all things, and that spider had none.

Her fingers closed around one of the torches lining the hallway, removing it from its ring to act not only as a source of light but as a weapon as well. The only other defensive object, she remembered, was her knife that lay on the floor of the chamber she had just fled, but she couldn't bring herself to return for it, afraid that the spider may be lying in wait for her.

She couldn't stay where she was either, that much was for certain. And so she found herself creeping through the oppressive stone maze, ears intently listening as she rounded every corner, eyes alert for the insidious creature hidden somewhere among the mesh of corridors. She only had to survive until he reverted to his true form, she reminded herself. However long _that_ would take…

A faint rustling was her only warning. A split-second later, the spider leapt from one of the black corridors. Kagome flailed her arm, the torch-fire cutting in front of her. The monster flinched, but lunged again. Instinctively the Athenian again threw the torch and barreled down a branching corridor. It was dark and narrow, but the spider tried to squeeze in after her all the same, its unholy shriek echoing into the stale blackness.

When she'd gotten far enough away, the monster gave up its futile pursuit, retreating to find another avenue.

Kagome paused, trembling fiercely, and stared back the direction she had come. The glow of the corridor beckoned her. Looking the opposite direction, she saw only an inky darkness.

"I should've grabbed two torches," she muttered out loud, ignoring the way her voice shook and the tears streaming freely down her face. Regardless of her oversight, she stretched her fingertips to touch stone on either side of her and took three more steps into the shadowed path, only to realize – to her great horror – that the walls were angled away from one another; the hall was becoming wider. The mouth of the corridor had barely succeeded in preventing her assailant from following. If the spider came scuttling out of the dark, she would be dead before she knew what hit her. Stumbling back, Kagome retraced her steps toward the glow of the lighted path.

She was stuck. She couldn't bring herself to step back out into the light, for fear that the spider was lying in wait, and she couldn't travel further into the darkness, blind to any attacks that would come upon her. Instead, she leaned against the wall and slid heavily to the ground. Knees drawn to her chest, she buried her face in her hands, wracked with indecision.

"Breathe," she told herself through clenched teeth, her body quaking with shock. "Just breathe."

Slowly she regained her composure, her mind turning her options over and over. She needed to find a narrow corridor long enough that she could simply stay within it for the rest of the night, safe beyond the spider's reach. She could recall no such corridors, though. The narrow openings always connected two wide avenues, but were themselves very short. Then again, she reasoned, she had been confined to the torch-lined paths. The dark ones, perhaps, led to other opportunities.

"Stay on the lighted paths," Naraku had warned her, but it didn't matter anymore.

Kagome silently crept back to the juncture where she had last seen the monster. With utmost caution, she peeked her head out, looking first one direction, then the other. Satisfied that the way was clear for the moment, she dashed out of her hiding place, snatched a new torch from the wall, and dashed back again.

The shadows in the corridor danced under the influence of the fickle flame. This passage was dusty, hung with tattered cobwebs. She looked ahead, where the walls sloped away from one another, and noticed that the floor angled downward as well. The darkness beyond the torchlight gaped at her.

Squaring her shoulders, Kagome stepped forward into the gloom. One advantage to this corridor was that it lacked any branching halls; she only had to worry about a frontal attack. This was a disadvantage as well, of course. The farther she got from the narrow opening, the farther she would have to run to get back to it. Somehow, she knew she could not outrun that monster. Fighting it didn't really seem to be an option anymore either.

_Survival_, her mind intoned. That was all she needed to worry about. Just a few hours more and it would all be over.

Her widening hallway ended ahead, yawning into a darkness her torch couldn't penetrate. It must have been one of the larger chambers, Kagome reasoned, or else another cavern like the one with the lake. The monster could easily be lurking beyond.

She approached with caution. The cobwebs around the entrance fluttered with a faint breeze, sending a strange, musty smell her direction. Pausing, she hesitated going any further. Curiosity got the better of her, though, and she finally stepped forward, standing on the threshold and raising her torch to shed light on the chamber beyond.

The floor dropped away dramatically, and the ceiling was higher than she had expected. As she stared at the contents of the room, it took a long moment for her brain to make sense of the play of light and shadow in front of her. A huge, gray web glinted at the center of the room, clotted with a nest and so much dust, and strange, dull lumps…

Kagome stumbled back in horror when she realized that one of those lumps had a decidedly human-looking face. The body was desiccated and shriveled, the eyes hollow and the mouth twisted in one final, agonized scream. A bleached skull hung from another lump, and the Athenian suddenly realized that the shapes littering the floor were not pieces of rock, as she had originally assumed, but bones – hundreds and hundreds of bones, moldering beneath piles of dust in the dry darkness of this inner chamber.

The tributes of months and years past lay before her.

She couldn't stop the scream that wrenched from her mouth any more than she could stop herself from turning and fleeing, back to the torch-lined corridor. Her feet pounded against the ground as she ran blindly through the glowing hallways.

_Don't stray from the lighted paths_, he had told her, and she finally understood why. In her mind, she saw herself among those victims, drained of her life and forever decaying in this hell. She ran on.

Rounding a corner, she collided with something which sent her tumbling to the ground. She cringed away, unable to meet the many-eyed gaze of her impending doom.

"Lady Kagome?"

The familiar, if annoying, voice snapped her from her panic.

"Hojo?" she cried incredulously, staring up at her former partner. "What are you doing here?"

"It's… it's tribute," he stuttered, brows drawing together.

"You… haven't seen the monster?" she inquired.

"Ah, no. But I heard a scream, so I came to investigate…"

"Do you remember the way back?" Kagome demanded, sitting up straight as a sense of urgency clutched at her heart.

Hojo looked to the direction he had just come. "Maybe… um, no," he admitted, chagrinned. "I had been keeping track of all the turns I made, but when I started running this way, I sort of forgot." He scratched the back of his head, his face taking on an apologetic expression.

"We have to find somewhere to hide," Kagome said, darting to her feet and snatching his hand.

Hojo stumbled after her, feeling his cheeks burn at the familiar, even intimate nature of her touch. "Lady Kagome," he started nervously, causing her to pause and look back at him expectantly. He blushed outright. "Please let me protect you, Lady Kagome," he humbly requested.

Kagome allowed him a faint smile, one that didn't reach her eyes. She looked like the picture of hopelessness, Hojo thought despondently.

"Come on," she prodded. "We should keep moving."

………

His senses reeled in a dizzying exuberance of adrenaline and bloodlust. Every stone in the wall stood out in sharp relief as he scurried along the corridors, seeking, seeking…

A faint gust of wind crossed his path, bearing with it a human scent. …Not one, but _two_, as it was, as it always should be. His body lurched in that direction, eagerness plunging him further into his delirium. There was no reason beyond the hunt. His prey was near. He would go forward to meet them.

_Forward to the feast._

………

"This way!" Hojo hissed, pulling her by the hand down one of the broader corridors.

"Are you kidding?" Kagome cried, snatching herself away from his grasp. "We have to find a narrow place, somewhere the Monster can't fit! Over here," she pointed, moving toward a narrower opening. She halted a step away from it, horrified eyes falling on a mesh of ropy strands that stretched across the gap. The spider-silk was fresh, glistening wetly in the torch-light.

Kagome stumbled backward, coming into contact with Hojo's chest. "H-he's setting traps," she stammered in disbelief. "He's blocking off the places where he can't fit."

"Come on," Hojo said, pulling her back the other way. "We can find somewhere else to hide."

In her stupor, Kagome allowed herself to be dragged. Hojo didn't know where he was going, but neither did she. Her time in the labyrinth had been too short. It no longer mattered.

_Survive,_ her mind uttered. _All you have to do is survive._

A shadow loomed at the end of the hallway, and a dry rustling sound met her ears. "Hojo!" she warned.

He had seen it as well, and was already yanking her down an adjacent corridor. They broke into a full run, barreling around twists and turns until they found themselves in a wide, tall chamber. Several halls branched from it, with spider silk glinting across their openings.

"Do you think we lost it?" Hojo panted, even as a sick feeling settled in Kagome's stomach.

A strange, stretching sound met her ears, and she looked up just in time to see the spider's bulbous form descending upon them from above. Kagome shrieked, lurching back into her companion, propelling them both away from the monster. Hojo took one look at the creature and promptly screamed like a child. The spider cut itself from its silken drop-line, landing in front of them with a soft plop. It flexed its two fangs, a hissing noise emitting from its mouth.

Then the unthinkable happened. Hojo, the very same "Please let me protect you, Lady Kagome" Hojo, promptly shoved her forward and fled for his own sweet life. The spider was torn between which victim to go for, lunging after Hojo while flailing one leg in Kagome's direction. The rough appendage caught her in the shoulder and flung her away.

She rolled once, landing in a seated position, and the predator decided to go for the easier target first. Scrambling back, Kagome cried out in terror as the monster loomed over her, fangs glistening in the flickering torchlight. _Zeus,_ her mind screamed,_ Hera, Athena, Poseidon, Hades! Whatever gods may be listening! Grant me deliverance!_

The spider lunged for its deathblow, and Kagome flung up one arm in a feeble attempt to shield herself. The air around her suddenly sparkled and crackled, a warmth enveloping her momentarily before a burst of white-hot power surrounded her, blinding her in its dazzling light.

She heard the monster shriek in pain, and as the flow of power ebbed, she opened her eyes once more, seeking out her would-be destroyer. The spider had recoiled back, curling in on itself as though badly burned. Its body seemed suddenly shriveled, smoking and singed.

_What just happened…?_ The thought floated through her dazed mind as her gaze drifted down to her own hand, the conduit for that unknown power. She should have taken this opportunity to flee, but instead she remained upon the ground, her attention eventually shifting from her tingling palm back to her attacker.

The spider pulsated, legs drawing further into a ball and seeming to meld with its body, creating an amorphous blob. Kagome felt her jaw go slack as she watched the flesh lighten and the creature take shape once more, slowly reverting to its more preferable form. In moments, Naraku had reappeared, crouched upon the floor in a naked, quivering mass. She could make out a fine sheen of sweat across his fair skin, his dark hair hanging limply to the floor, concealing his face.

Tentatively, she picked herself up off the ground and approached him, not failing to notice how he shook, how his body convulsed from its forced transformation, how he hugged his arms across his chest as though freezing. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw for the first time the brand emblazoned across his back, a burn mark shaped like a spider, always hidden in former times by his long hair.

With a quiet sigh of compassion, she untied the girdle from her waist and unpinned her outer peplos at the shoulders, removing the length of cloth from her person and draping it instead over Naraku's trembling form. As the woolen fabric cascaded over him, he froze, shock registering on his half-obscured features. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to find her kneeling at his side, staring back at him with an expression he hardly recognized.

"Why?" he demanded hoarsely, a sharp edge to his voice. "Why do you not flee in terror?" His dark eyes searched her face, his expression seeming both angry and desperate. He did not want her pity, she realized, and yet he craved it as though it were ambrosia from the gods.

"There is nothing for me to fear," she answered quietly, her gaze never leaving his. "Not right now."

Whether the answer satisfied his question or not, she did not know. But the next instant, one long-fingered hand reached up to the back of her head, dragging her forward to him, his mouth fiercely meeting hers, warm and intoxicating. It was something of a savage kiss, both painful and exhilarating, sweet and bitter at the same time, and she found herself responding with an unexpected fervor.

The tension of the last few days—of her lifetime, really—drained away from her in that moment, and she belonged wholly to this place, to this time, to this man. _Destiny_, her mind intoned almost incoherently as she was drawn further into the rough embrace.

_Was this what the Fates had in store all along…?_

And the next moment, it was over. He broke the kiss, shoving her away from him with a feral growl. "Get out of here!" he spat.

"Wh-what?" she managed, completely disoriented by the sudden change.

"Go," Naraku ground out. "Leave this place and never return!"

Silence descended between them, punctuated only by the heavy breaths each took. Kagome stared at the man before her, disbelieving what she heard. If she returned to the outside world, she would only be taken prisoner and offered as tribute again. In the meantime, he would be left to the consuming solitude of the labyrinth. It was pointless.

"I said for you to leave," he reiterated, eyes narrowing fiercely.

"Only if you come with me," Kagome blurted, hardly knowing what she was saying, yet meaning every word.

Shock registered on his face, his eyes growing large as he stared back at her.

"Come with me," she pressed, leaning forward. Her eyes glimmered eagerly. "Leave this place and its memories behind!"

His mouth twisted in fury. "Fool!" he sneered. "You have seen what I am! Save yourself!"

"I won't leave here without you," she retorted, stubbornly poking him in the chest.

He snatched her finger in a tight grip, causing her to gasp in pain. His voice lowered to a dangerous tone. "You would unleash me upon the masses, knowing that I could kill hundreds?"

"You already _have_ killed hundreds," said Kagome, "but not of your own free will. Does it somehow make it better that you are forced to live in misery, and that the tribute must die in darkness and confusion?"

He had no answer for her, instead pressing his lips into a thin line. His grip on her hand loosened as he averted his eyes.

Kagome had never been one to back down after she had made up her mind. "I will not leave you here," she firmly avowed, fingers curling around his. "You may come with me, or I will stay with you."

Naraku was silent for a long moment. Then, "I may kill you one day," he threatened darkly.

"I may kill _you_ one day," Kagome shot back. He had not expected such a response, his gaze jerking to her face. "Will you spend the rest of your life fearing the future?" she asked. "I had not thought you such a coward."

In an instant, he tugged her forward, catching her shoulder. Their faces nose to nose, he uttered, "You are reckless."

"Come with me," said Kagome.

………

Miroku's eyes shifted from the end of the corridor to the woman standing guard next to him, his gaze resting on her lop-sided chest. Pity she had to cover the nice one with her toga, he thought regretfully.

"Eyes to the front, pervert," Sango snapped, her grip around her long-handled spear tightening almost imperceptibly.

"My dear Sango," he started, "that's exactly where they are."

Predictably, the comment earned him a sharp slap, followed by a verbal lashing. "How many times have I told you to quit talking to me like that? I can kick your ass any day of the week, Miroku, so try treating me with a little resp—"

A faint knock interrupted her tirade, coming from the last place either of them expected. The two guards turned enormous eyes on the door they were commissioned to watch, the entrance to the labyrinth.

"Miroku?" a muffled voice inquired. "Sango?"

"I'll be damned," the Minoan muttered in a hollow tone.

"Kagome?" Sango gasped.

"Can you open the door now," Kagome asked, "or do you have to wait until dawn?"

Miroku was already scrambling for the key.

"Kagome, you're alive?" Sango questioned through the wood of the door.

"For now," she said. "Hojo is alive somewhere in the labyrinth too – you'll have to send someone in to find him."

The key slid into the lock, and a moment later, the door swung open.

Miroku cursed, backing away as not one, but two figures emerged. His spear dropped into a defensive position, and Sango's immediately followed suit as they both stared in horror at the pale-skinned, dark-haired man before them.

"Sango, Miroku," said Kagome, "put your weapons away. We're leaving." And with nothing further, she slipped past them, her fingers interlaced with the man's as she pulled him behind her. The two guards stood frozen to the spot.

When the footsteps had all but disappeared, Miroku slowly straightened and cursed again, his eyes fixed on the gaping entrance to the labyrinth.

"Was that…?" Sango inquired.

"Uh-huh."

"He was wearing her robe," said the Amazon. "She still had her tunic, but he had her robe. You don't suppose that she… that they…"

"I'll be damned," said Miroku.

………

Kikyo leaned over the edge of her balcony, watching the scene below in astonishment. Dawn had not yet broken, but its rosy fingers were spreading along the horizon, casting just enough light for her to discern the two shadowed figures making their way across the palace grounds. It was still too dark to see who they were, but somehow Kikyo _knew_.

"I've given orders to allow them to leave unharmed," her husband said at her elbow. She looked up, startled as he settled in place beside her.

"She didn't kill him," she murmured.

Inuyasha shook his head. "I don't know how she survived. It's no longer our concern. Are you all right?"

A slow smile spread across her face, reaching even her dark eyes. She nodded and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"This could be a mistake," Inuyasha said, watching the two progress beyond the grounds, into Knossos. Kikyo nodded against him, each of them wondering the same thing. _Was the curse truly broken?_

"It is in the hands of the gods now," Kikyo finally declared as the first sliver of sun burst across the eastern horizon.

"Keh," Inuyasha snorted bitterly. "It always has been."

………

Somewhere, deep within the depths of the labyrinth, Hojo whimpered piteously and curled into a tighter ball, lost and drowning in darkness.

………

The End

………

**A/N: To anyone who made it this far, thanks for reading!**


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